Month: April 2013

at capacity

/ abby hummel / 3 Comments

Several months ago, I realized anyone who compared the things I claim to value to the things my calendar claimed I valued would think I was crazy. I probably was. It definitely felt like it. So I had to do some cutting back, getting rid of good things that I wanted to do, and the only rationalization was that they were (innocently) choking the life out of the things that were necessary. This was the hardest and wisest thing I have done yet this year, and I’ve seen much good come out of it. (I found this post on marriage encouraging during the process of schedule-culling.)

saturday am

One of the things that I was a little embarrassed to protect in the revised Spring schedule was times like this one. I really need some time for hot coffee and morning reading built into my weekend schedule. Nothing else works if I don’t get this in before the weekly grind spills over into the rest of my weekend. Really, there is no good reason for a Christian to feel bad about putting non-negotiable boundaries around their practice of a sabbath rest, but these things always make more sense when you look at it in retrospect.

I started this morning feeling disappointed, used up, exhausted, uncertain, and fully inadequate for the tasks ahead of me, nagged by the thought that this shouldn’t be happening because I have all the skills necessary to tackle my responsibilities. My relationship with Oswald Chambers ebbs and flows, but I find myself invariably turning back to this old copy of My Utmost for His Highest when I am frustrated or wanting something that isn’t happening. I read it every day the year Aaron was in Iraq and it feels comforting to revisit the graces that sustained me then.

saturday am promises

“We must not measure our spiritual capacity by education or by intellect; our capacity in spiritual things is measured by the promises of God. …When it is a question of God’s Almighty Spirit, never say “I can’t.” …Never forget that our capacity in spiritual matters is measured by the promises of God. Is God able to fulfill His promises?” – Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest, April 20.

The other thing at capacity in our lives? Our chicken ownership. We had just the right amount for our coop, but Aaron succumbed to the cuteness of baby chicks and brought a few more home. He came up from the garage mid-day last week when I had a break in piano lessons and said something like, “I just want you to think about how much you love me… and how much you love things that are little and soft before you go down to the laundry room.”

sunny chick

Surprise! Though the timing was close, I’m not letting him pass this off as a birthday present. And unfortunately, this isn’t an exotic colored breed; that purple mark is just from a Farmer’s marker.

It’s hard to get or stay mad at someone who brought you home some baby chicks. It seems that Space Dad is becoming a total softie. And if you don’t hear from us for a while, please check in and make sure we’re not accidentally becoming chicken farmers.

three, cubed

/ abby hummel / 1 Comment

Since I teach algebra this year, I’m getting a kick out of the fact that my birthday means I’m “three-cubed” instead of the straightforward twenty-seven! Last year I made a list of things to work on before turning 30. In the meantime, I’ve accomplished a few things and decided a few goals need to be revised, but it’s good to know there’s still plenty of living to get in before that big milestone!

Sometimes April is hard for us. We pass lots of dates this month that recall God’s faithfulness in all circumstances. My 25th birthday in particular was one of the most difficult days of my life, and we’ll probably always feel a bit of a void for some little birthdays we wanted to be celebrating this month. In a few weeks we will celebrate Aaron’s Iraq homecoming anniversary – a special memory that is connected to lots of ugly, hard experiences, too. I love that the Northern Hemisphere weather reflects the church calendar so well, that nature is full of little green buds sticking off branches and new life coming out of the ground to remind us the Resurrection is real.

On a less thoughtful note, Aaron asked what I wanted for my birthday, and I felt really upset: “I don’t want more stuff! I want less stuff!” I don’t think he’s going to clean out my closet for me or anything, but my parents will be visiting this weekend and I think my mom will be a more willing participant in that project.

Thankfully, I haven’t accumulated any major new griefs or extra material possessions this year. I did, however, treat myself to a drive-through latte this afternoon as a “thank-you” to myself for finishing our taxes on my birthday.0412131316(I used a Christmas gift card, of course.) I’m so thankful for the gift of another year of blessings and growth!

“Don’t you wish your Bible was ecumenical like mine?”

/ abby hummel / 6 Comments

My April to-do lists are pretty crazy. Trying to make lots of people happy is never a great way to avoid busyness and stress, but it’s a necessary evil of my self-employment. Additionally, there are taxes to finish up, there is an impromptu bathroom remodel to tackle, there are classes to direct and piano students to teach. Weekends aren’t really weekends for the next few weeks. I love what I do and I wouldn’t trade it for anything, but there is a lot of working and not a lot of sleeping going on at our house!

As an anti-insanity measure, I squeezed in a walk in our park this weekend when the weather finally became warm and sunny. A no-cell-phone-so-no-one-can-bug-me kind of walk. And then I even had some outside Bible study on a beach chair in sandals. (I feel like there should be some exclamation points in that sentence.)  ecumenicalI found this Bible during a recent visit to my parent’s house. My maiden name is written inside the cover, and I vaguely remember having it at some point for some College class or something. And by some strange happening, there are notes all over the generous margins in my handwriting and I have absolutely no recollection of studying from this volume. It’s huge, about 3x the size of my usual leatherbound NIV, possibly because it contains the Apocrypha, which I always mean to read and research but never do, but also because of the generous cross references at the bottom of each page. It’s been fun to discover (or really rediscover, I suppose…) these resources. I still want to learn Greek, but in the meantime, it’s nice to have so many study aids available in English.

Psalm 38. I don't know why I underlined this; good to know it's still true!

Psalm 38. I don’t know why I underlined this; good to know it’s still true!

I definitely get a huge nerdy kick out of opening up this scriptural monstrocity, but it’s really spooky to find notes I have no memory of making, especially when they are helpful and insightful. The real world may be dulling my senses, because these notes definitely indicate I was a lot smarter in college. Or at least I had more insights concerning the Minor Prophets than I would these days…

“….without fathom.”

/ abby hummel / 7 Comments

It goes without saying that our chicks started off pretty cute. Then they got little tail-feathers and that was still cute, but it went downhill from there. As they grew, they got a little bit brattier and much, much stinkier.  Apparently this is typical of adolescent chickens as well as humans. We also sent two of the Barred Rocks (Black-and-White) to a new home, since we only wanted four and were pleasantly surprised that all six survived their first few weeks in the box.

coop outside

In recent days, they moved out of their box in the laundry room and currently reside in a stylish navy blue coop in our backyard. They won’t be laying eggs until August, so we’ve entered a less-than-exciting phase of chicken tending.

chickens outside

I have always been very opposed to the idea of “Furbabies,” where people consider their animals as important as kids and call themselves “Mommy” and “Daddy” to the pets. However, we don’t have any children or even regular pets running around, and the chicks are definitely getting an extra dose of our doting while we teach them to do things their moms would have taught them on a farm. The solution has been to narrowly escape the “furbaby” category by claiming a special title for ourselves as caregivers. The idea came from Megamind, one of our favorite movies. (If you haven’t seen it, don’t judge the whole movie based on this one-minute clip. The full-length feature is quite a hoot!)

Last night, after he successfully impelled the chickens to use their ramp independently, Aaron gave a perfect impersonation of this scene, saying, “I am the Chicken’s Space Dad and my chicken-training abilities are unfathomable…. they can’t be fathomed… they are without fathom.” Since I’m less involved with their activities, I get to be the “Space Step Mom.” What can I say? I’ve had some work done recently.